Dance in the Dark
by shortcrust pastry
Summary: AU. Hinata is a famous opera dancer who belongs to a dark, twisted boyfriend and Uchiha Sasuke's talent agency. What happens when his protective interest in her goes from professional to personal?  Rating may change. SasuHina
1. Two Guns

**A/N: **Sorry for springing another random story on you. This idea has been bugging me for literally _ever. _I really wanted to see what you all thought of it, too. Hope you enjoy!

**"DANCE IN THE DARK****"  
**_An AU SasuHina story  
_FRIGHTYMARE

**Disclaimer: **Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto  
**Song Inspiration: **Dear John - Taylor Swift**  
**Dance in the Dark – Lady Gaga  
Good to You – Marianas Trench ft. Kate Voegele

**. . . . .**

_Two Guns _

Uchiha Sasuke was pleasantly surprised, but only to a substantially mild degree.

As his sleek, black limousine slid through the streets of Konoha, he surveyed the streets of his hometown from his peripheral vision. Bright lights, billboards and colourful posters surrounded the sidewalks and buildings, with snugly-dressed winter walkers strolling around the blocks with merry expressions and calmly content auras.

Home.

It felt strange, Sasuke concluded to himself, to once again be returning to his hometown – the city of Konoha. Four years prior, he'd been consigned to enlist in a military training camp as was required for sixteen-year-old males. He'd endured seven months of the gruelling exercise and academics, but he'd found it boring and purposeless.

Instead, he escaped to the city of Oto, a small suburb where he was able to pursue a career in economics. His brother Itachi, who had left Konoha to join the management team of a talent agency by the name of _Akatsuki, _was rumoured to be there.

However, he hadn't found Itachi. He'd stayed, though, and emerged where he was now – an immensely successful corporate businessman, Chief Executive Officer of the _Sharingan _marketing and talent agency. Itachi and he had always shared a complex where they were both obsessed with talent and skill – if they could not possess the skills themselves, they would control them.

After learning of Itachi's death through several _Akatsuki _corporate contacts, he'd decided to venture home on the days leading to his twentieth birthday.

Sasuke was hardly aware of his chauffeur pulling up to the curb as they approached their destination – a crisply designed, fully furnished duplex. He'd commissioned the construction of the duplex when he was sixteen; Haruno Sakura had begged him to share it with her.

Gradually, they'd established a formidable connection – one which Sakura called a 'relationship' and Sasuke preferred to refer to as a 'partnership'. He'd kept in scattered contact throughout his stay in Oto City, and she had watched as he'd risen to the top. He, in turn, had stood on the sidelines as she became known as one of Konoha's largest-name clothing designers and world-renowned fashion icon.

She was annoying, overtly pesky and frankly too much of a diva, but there was nothing precisely _wrong _about her. She still had a good nature, and she was kind towards _him_. Sasuke couldn't decide how he felt about their 'partnership'; most of the time, he didn't want to admit that he really couldn't care less – not when she seemed to be giving it her all.

"Sasuke-kun!"

Speak of the devil: the pink-haired fashionista darted anxiously from the doors of the duplex, skirts and beads and ruffles flying about as she flung herself at him. He only barely managed to catch her before she collided with him, completely unimpressed by her romantic, undignified actions.

"Sakura," he acknowledged simply, with scarcely an inclination of his head as he motioned for the chauffeur to follow with his bags and belongings. Whilst the man complied and began removing the suitcases from the back of the vehicle, Sakura straightened and tucked her hair behind her ears, beaming.

"Sasuke-kun, you're finally back!" she grinned breathlessly. "It's been so lonely without you; I thought I would die!"

_Of course you wouldn't die. If you're feeding yourself and emptying your bowels every so often, it's against the very laws of nature that you should die. _Sasuke gave a wry, humourless smirk, not bothering to reciprocate with a meaningful comment of his own. "Hn."

It didn't seem to bother Sakura, however. "Come inside! I'll make you a cup of tea, Sasuke-kun! And then we can catch up on everything we've missed!"

As he was dragged inside his familiar duplex home, Sasuke couldn't help but feel like he already missed Oto City.

**. . . . .**

Hyuuga Hinata carefully swept her dark hair to the back of her head and pinned it neatly in place. She was garbed in a pretty white dress, tinged with the slightest hint of lavender. It was unique from the other dancers' dresses – specially designed for her by Haruno Sakura, to compliment her one-of-a-kind eyes and fair skin.

But then again, with the physical features aside, Hinata _was _unique from the other dancers. She was far superior in her dancing, far more flexible and far more revered in the entertainment industry than any other member of the city's celebrities. Perhaps it was her talent and skill, perhaps it was her nobility and birth status, perhaps it was her pure innocence and angelic aura in contrast to other celebrities' hardcore and over-the-top images; whatever it was, it _worked_.

Fame treated Hinata well. She was able to pay off her rent with ease, and she was even able to send money along to her father every so often, despite their family's direct wealth to begin with. He was nearing the age of sixty and she was only twenty; she could spare him the money he deserved to live out the aging process with every single wish and whim fulfilled.

"Hurry up, Hinata!" sang a tinkling voice, belonging to the choirmaster who skipped past her vanity table with a nervous spring in her step. "The rehearsal's starting in two minutes! We need all of the opera members to the stage, _stat_!"

"C-Coming," Hinata mumbled, as she swiped a hurried stroke of eyeliner across the bottoms of her already-wide eyes. As she capped and set down the eyeliner pencil, she pushed her stool away from the vanity table and scrambled to her feet, hands fluttering about her like worried butterflies.

Scurrying to the main stage, Hinata ignored the pressing stares of her fellow dancers as she assumed her position on the right of the stage. The girls who owned the centre-stage were extravagantly – though artificially – striking in appearance, but Hinata could not help thinking that they were not the best dancers they could be. A part of her always wanted to replace them; yet an ever-present part of her also seldom wanted the glaring heat of the spotlight.

"Dancers, we'll begin with the number you learned just yesterday," the choirmaster instructed absent-mindedly as she leafed through her music sheets. "The routine is new and may be shaky but with practice, we should be fine. As for my choir and orchestra," she fixed a glare towards the addressed," we'll begin with Orochimaru-sama's music. It is purely instrumental."

The majority of the choir's heads snapped up in surprise.

Their choirmaster continued, "But Kabuto-san has been kind enough to write lyrics for the latter two-thirds of the song, and so my singers will not enter the piece until bar 18. Understood?"

She was met with silent, eager nods, and with a wave of her conducting wand, they began.

**. . . . .**

Sasuke did not look up from his tea. Nor did he drink it; he knew better than to accept Sakura's tea. Being well-acquainted with several types of fundamental medicine, he was aware she was capable of creating odourless, colourless drugs and liquid applications. He did doubt she would take her infatuation to that level, but he was a cautious man nevertheless.

"Hyuuga?" he repeated, in mild interest. His mind jumped instantly to a certain lavender-eyed girl, whom he hadn't spoken with since he was sixteen years old.

"Neji and Hanabi," Sakura said with a bob of a nod. "Neji is twenty-two now, and Hanabi is finally eighteen. They were officially engaged to be married as of her last birthday. There's no telling when the wedding is, though."

Inter-family breeding: Sasuke had heard of such a thing. It was made to keep the noble blood _pure _and unsoiled by strangers and outliers and most importantly – peasants. The Uchihas had shared similar perspectives and status principles, but Sasuke – now the last of his line – didn't care much for his blood anymore. Itachi had never fussed over such a thing, and so he refused to as well.

"Hn."

Sakura sighed. "Seriously. Is that all you're going to say? Aren't you happy for them?"

"I don't know them."

"Not _technically_," Sakura argued. "But sure you do! Don't you remember Hinata-chan? I know you were never _close _with her, but you _had _to have known who she was…"

Sasuke _did _remember. She was always hanging about Naruto and Sakura. At one point, he'd assumed she'd had no friends of her own to be with, but those suspicions had been quelled after he'd spotted her in the company of Shino and Kiba.

More prominent was the memory of one of the only and last encounters he shared with Hyuuga Hinata.

_Sixteen-year-old Hinata pushed her hair back with a black headband. Fake pink and orange flowers blossomed from the headband's right end. Clad in a dress and black pantyhose, she proceeded to stretch her limbs._

_She was in the athletic studio of the Konoha Arts Academy. Sasuke had returned to retrieve the lacrosse stick he'd forgotten, and instead had discovered, well, __**her**__. _

_She blushed when she realized he stood in the doorway, watching her touch her toes and pull her legs and roll her ankles. However, she attempted a weak smile as he passed by wordlessly, choosing not to speak until he did._

_And when he did, it was merely, "I forgot my lacrosse stick."_

_Assuming he wanted her to explain herself in turn, she'd responded, "I'm … s-stretching…"_

_"Dance," he recognized, dark eyes flickering to her tattered ballet shoes. _

_"Lacrosse?" she remarked quickly in return, lifting a perfect eyebrow with curiosity and interest. "I … I like lacrosse."_

_He'd felt as though she was waiting for him to invite her to watch him play, but then he'd doubted it would result in a one-way favour. Most likely she'd ask him to watch her __**dance**__, and then he'd be unable to refuse. _

_So he'd said, "Hn."_

_But she hadn't seemed fazed in the least. Her eyelids fell slightly as she glanced off to the side dreamily, contentedly. "I h-hope someday I can make it as a d-dancer…"_

_"Dancers don't get a lot of attention in the industry."_

_"That doesn't m-matter to me," she assured him slowly. "I just want to. You wouldn't understand."_

And he hadn't. And he still didn't. If _Sharingan _hadn't been able to get off the ground, Sasuke probably wouldn't have bothered to go through with it. Recognition, fame, attention: that was what the entertainment industry really _was _all about, and that was really all it had to offer anyone. That was the entire purpose behind the formation of a marketing and talent agency. To this day, he didn't understand, and in his most vulnerable of thoughts, he wished he could see what she seemed to have been able to.

"Hn. Yeah."

Sakura rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly, appearing to surrender. "I give up. I can't even get a normal response out of you anymore. I thought you'd changed over four years, Sasuke-kun, but you obviously haven't."

When he failed to reply properly yet again by remaining silent, Sakura's shoulders sagged and her features relaxed into a warm, wide smile.

Glancing at him from the corners of her green eyes, she added fondly, "But that's why I love you!"

"Tch," he scoffed and stood, vanishing into his half of the duplex, leaving Sakura with a somewhat hurt, confused expression.

**. . . . .**

His name was Sakon. Hinata had met him at her father's fifty-eighth birthday ceremony. She was quite sure he was a business associate's son from overseas. The two of them had instantly hit it off after mutual mention of Orochimaru, the world-renowned musical composer and librettist.

Sakon had studied beneath Orochimaru in exchange for leaving high school early. Sakon had been the one to arrange the meeting with Hinata and Orochimaru, in which Orochimaru had taken an immediate liking to Hinata's abilities and enlisted her for the Konoha Opera. His managers, Jiraiya and Tsunade, had been equally impressed with her, and from there, she had skyrocketed to the very core of the fame monster.

His hair was dark blue-grey, and hung thickly over one eye. His lips were an abnormal shade of turquoise, sharp eyes thinly rimmed with brown. A thick string of red beads adorned his neck. His twin brother, Ukon – who she had also met – looked identical, but thankfully without the beads, providing Hinata a simple method of making the distinction between the two.

Sakon was a less-than-reputable character outside of his social status. To her father, he was the perfect gentleman, and also equipped with admirable athletic abilities which had projected him swiftly to every sports magazine. To Hinata, he was a viable suitor, someone she found she could tolerate and perhaps learn to enjoy his company. But he had a habit of treating the weak, strangers and peasants like trash, something she'd told him repeatedly she didn't appreciate, and something he'd continued to ignore.

He waited outside of her dressing room with a small, twisted smirk on his face, eyes darting from passerby to passerby. When she emerged with slightly dishevelled hair and a half-unbuttoned trench coat, his smirk faded.

"What took you so long, eh?"

"T-The dress rehearsal; it was today! Did you forget?" Hinata demanded, unable to keep the exasperated note from her voice as she slid her hands into crimson wool mittens.

"Of course I didn't," Sakon snapped easily as he took her hand in his. "Don't keep me waiting like that again, do you hear me?"

Hinata sighed and narrowed her eyes away from him.

Without averting his gaze from the looming doors ahead, Sakon absently tugged on her hand and muttered from the corner of his mouth, "Do you hear me?"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Hinata mumbled a verification of sorts.

Somewhat satisfied, Sakon dragged her out into the street where he instantaneously pulled her closer to his side. Hinata inwardly sighed again; his mood swings were about as frequent as a menstruating fourteen-year-old girl.

As courage swelled inside of her, stemming from his sudden affection, Hinata piped up, "The s-show is tomorrow night … you're still coming to it, r-right?"

His turquoise lips twisted into something she couldn't see from her under-vantage point.

"S-Sakon?" She tugged lightly on his sleeve, and his head instantly snapped down, his face practically leering in her own.

"'Course I am," he assured her. "Besides, who's going to drive you there early for your dress-up and shit?"

He seemed sincere, until he swore. The cuss that escaped his lips in a hiss was an entirely different kind of bitter than Hinata had ever heard.

**. . . . .**

Sasuke glanced at his wristwatch. It was already nine o'clock in the evening, and the streets of Konoha were still bustling and merrily loud. _Annoyingly _loud, he might add.

When he'd been sixteen and still a high-school senior in his hometown, the townsfolk had all gone to bed and turned off their lights before it even struck half-past eight. At the time, it had seemed ridiculous to Sasuke; now, with the complete opposite trend set in motion, it seemed almost distant. This new, late-night-hustle arrangement felt out-of-place.

He felt fucking _obsolete. _Was this what he got for disappearing for four years?

It had been a half-hour since he'd left Sakura at the tea table. It had been fifteen minutes since he'd received a fax from Juugo, one of _Sharingan_'s executive employees who had chosen to stay behind in Oto City to manage the base office.

The fax had informed Sasuke of a recent business venture another of their conglomerate executives – Suigetsu – had requested permission for. The sheet contained a personal note from Suigetsu, gushing pointlessly about how _lucky _the company was to have discovered this celebrity before the _Akatsuki _had.

Sasuke had looked over the information. She was a girl, a member of the Konoha Opera, roughly his age, so to speak. Twenty years old, a graduate of the Konoha Arts Academy and a _personal _draft from the legendary Jiraiya, Tsunade and Orochimaru into the Opera. Her credentials stood to be quite impressive, Sasuke had to admit, but did her skills live up to her past?

A name had not been secured by Suigetsu as of yet. He was still working on tracking her down and had asked Sasuke in the fax to help, since being a member of the Konoha Opera, she obviously resided in the town.

Suigetsu was damn lucky to have found a Konoha celebrity, Sasuke thought. If it weren't for these remarkably extraordinary qualifications backing this girl, Sasuke would never have bothered to look for her at all. He'd even grudgingly promised Sakura he _wouldn't _be bringing his work back to Konoha when he left Juugo in charge of Oto City's _Sharingan _base operations.

All he knew was that she was the most commercialized dancer of the Opera. She was not the frontrunner, but she would be the face adorning the posters, the name attached to the videos and the voice behind the interviews._ She _was the entire Opera's tool, the ultimate weapon, the largest and best opportunity they'd seen in years.

As he entered the main town square, Sasuke was struck with blindingly bright neon lights from every direction. Blinking rapidly, he slowed his pace as he dragged his feet along the pavement, weaving through the crowds on the sidewalks, all the while scrutinizing each and every poster he passed.

There was no need to, though. The largest billboard of them all dominated his vision the moment he glanced up. And there he'd found her – 'See **Hinata **live at the **Konoha Opera **January Show', the locally celebrated opera dancer. Dark hair, fair skin, lips painted a velvety mauve and eyes shadowed with dusty crimson and shimmering gold.

She was painted like an exotic doll, but he recognized her regardless. _I know those eyes. _They were the same eyes that had silently promised him, four years ago, that she would make it someday. Eyes that he never understood.

And in that split second, Sasuke strode calmly across the street to the booth directly beneath the billboard, eyes of onyx coldly calculating the local prestige of the Konoha Opera. Indeed, an industry phenomenon the entire thing was. There was no denying _that_.

But that was hardly the reason he was standing in front of the small tollbooth, glaring through the glass pane at the nervous clerk trapped inside the box. The true reason was another thing entirely, and that _reason _had possessed unfathomable rosy-lavender eyes.

"A ticket for the Konoha Opera." As he removed his wallet from his pocket, Sasuke figured it best to bring Sakura along, to convince her that he was neither ogling dancers nor looking for work. "Make that two."

**. . . . .**

**A/N: **Shorter than most of my stories, but I'm pleased with where I ended it. Hope I didn't do too bad a job of foreshadowing. I also suck at lenghty AU work. **Do leave a review if you can.** They always make me smile to read them, and they get me to write! (Since I'm not a write-ahead sort of person, it's your reviews that usually remind me to get on the ball and update. Sometimes I write memos on my hands, but unfortunately, even Sharpie only stays on for so long.) **:)**


	2. Drown

**A/N: **I'm so glad everyone liked my premise! I've always been fascinated with classy things, like the opera and ballet and prestigious businesses and stuff like that. Thanks for the reviews! I'm sorry to take this story slowly and for the chapters to be so much shorter, but I'm trying not to overload like I feel I do with my other stories. There's also a poll on my profile you should check out and a hidden question in this chapter, but don't stress about looking for it – I'll repeat it in my **Author's Note **at the end of the chapter. Enjoy!

"**DANCE IN THE DARK"  
**_An AU SasuHina story  
_FRIGHTYMARE

**Disclaimer: **Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto  
**Song Inspiration: **Dear John – Taylor Swift**  
**Dance in the Dark – Lady Gaga  
Good to You – Marianas Trench ft. Kate Voegele

**. . . . .**

_Drown _

Sasuke awoke to an unpleasant pounding on the door of his bedroom.

"Sasuke-kun, are you awake?" Sakura's voice preceded her only seconds before she pushed open the door, disregarding his lack of an answer. He scarcely had the time to lift himself into an upright position, let alone respond, as she rushed to his bedside. _Let's play a guessing game. How do you think I woke up? Your first choice is, uh, __**you**__, and your second choice is your obnoxious knuckles rapping on my goddamn door. Of course I'm awake, idiot._

Completely oblivious to his menacing morning aura and his sulking thoughts, Sakura rested her elbows on the edge of his bed, sprawling herself into a comfortable seated position beside his head, eyes shining up at him contentedly.

"I wasn't sure what time you got home last night. I was worried, Sasuke-kun."

Did she seriously have to say his name in every single sentence? He wasn't a self-deprecating freak who hated the sound of his own name, but with her stupid affectionate honorific and the stimulated purr of her voice attached to it, he _loathed _it.

He loathed the very insinuation that they were living like a married couple even more so. Who was she to act as though she owned him? Who was she to worry for him? Who was she to care or deserve to know at what hours of the night he returned home?

When he didn't reply to her previous statement, Sakura pressed bluntly, "Sasuke-kun. Where were you last night?"

He turned his face slightly away from hers to glare up at the ceiling, resisting a sigh and an angry strike at the perpendicular wall. Whenever he was upset or angry, he tended to not care about feelings or appearances; he was as frank and honest and brutally open as he could be. Even now, there was no holding back; he would tell her the truth without qualms. "I got a fax from Oto. I was hunting down some new work."

"Sasuke-kun!" Sakura exclaimed reproachfully. "I _clearly _remember asking you not to take your work home with you!"

Sasuke kicked the covers to a bundle at the foot of his bed and sat up, swinging his legs off the side and ignoring Sakura's green eyes firmly fixed on him as he stood to his feet. "I'm only going to say this once, Sakura. We're not married. And I'll do what I want. That'd be true even if we _were_ married, and once again, we're not."

Sakura bit her lip, and when she parted them to answer, all that emerged were splutters and surprised gasps of attempts at forming comprehensible words.

Sasuke began to drag his feet across his bedroom, but before he left the room, he declared, "I bought two tickets for us to see the opera show tonight. My work is there."

"W-What's your work?" Sakura asked quickly, leaping to her feet and scurrying to the doorway, two feet away from where he'd paused in the hall. "I-I mean, who? No, wait – I mean _what_. Is it the opera? Are you enlisting the entire Konoha Opera?"

Sasuke was left to mentally marvel at Sakura's lack of economic logical capacity. "No, that would be _stupid_. The Konoha Opera is owned by Jiraiya, Tsunade and Orochimaru, and they have no problems on their own management. The fax I received was about the Hyuuga dancer."

"Hinata-chan?" Sakura inquired, to which he gave a single, indifferent nod. "I design her dresses, Sasuke-kun … which means I already have access to Top Box seats in the opera house for whichever shows, whenever. Resell your tickets; I've got us covered."

Sasuke didn't hesitate to nod concisely before turning into the bathroom. After all, the Top Box sounded much better than the last-minute tickets he'd purchased just last night – the night before the show itself. He hadn't even bothered to check the seats: he assumed they'd be somewhere in the back.

Perhaps he could hand the tickets to Naruto. As far as he understood, Naruto was dating Tenten, who had been devastated over the loss of Neji. _Or_, he was dating Ino because a devastated Tenten had introduced them during a mutual cheer-up session. Either or; he was only aware that Naruto had a girlfriend and Tenten had not been happy with Neji and Hanabi's arranged marriage.

And that Sakura _really _needed to improve her story-telling voice: he'd become far too accustomed to her normal squeals and chirps that it had grown almost effortless to tune her out completely. It was also difficult to listen when she spoke as though she were a gossip tabloid. Perhaps if she got the details right, he wouldn't be thrown for a loop the next time new news came knocking.

As he stepped out of the bathroom with a damp face and minty-fresh mouth, Sasuke padded downstairs lethargically and opened a can of soda for breakfast. He was still twenty years old; he felt slightly young to be engrossed in morning habits like coffee and oatmeal.

He was joined moments later by an equally clean Sakura, in her pyjamas and dressing-gown and slippers which clacked unpleasantly against the hardwood floors.

"So have you thought about what I said?" she asked him, as she poured herself a glass of milk and glowered pointedly at his choice of early-morning beverage.

He ignored her disapproval of his soda, and to prove it, took a lengthy sip. He'd nodded in response to her suggestion earlier, hadn't he? Was she _blind_? "Yeah, I'll give them to someone else."

Sakura blinked, glancing up from returning the milk carton to the confines of the refrigerator. "Who?"

"Naruto."

"Naruto?" Sakura repeated in astonishment and reprimand. "Sasuke-kun, Naruto will already have tickets of his own – probably the best! Don't you know? He's the son of Jiraiya-sama's favourite student, the violinist Namikaze Minato!"

Sasuke was utterly bewildered, although he didn't show it. He knew the identity and prestige of Naruto's father, but he hadn't realized that Naruto had been musically inclined as well – well, enough to land him easy access to show tickets, anyhow.

Sakura elaborated, upon noticing his lack of reply, "He's also on good terms with my contractor, Tsunade-sama. So, with connections to the both of them, he was able to score an executive position on the Opera Management Board. As far as I know, he doesn't do much else but supervise, but I personally think Tsunade-sama doesn't trust him to handle the more important paperwork and-"

"Kakashi, then."

Sakura gave a start at being cut off. "U-Um, no. Not him, either. He's the, ah, playwright, actually."

An ebony eyebrow flew up in calm question. "Hn."

"Kiba and Shino will already have tickets – they always do, because of Hinata-chan, and so will her family, but-"

"-Shikamaru, then."

A lazy freeloader he'd been then, and a lazy freeloader he probably was now. There was _no way _Shikamaru was also tied into the Opera somehow. If he didn't take these tickets, Sasuke would throw them into the nearest trash bin without hesitation. They'd already caused him enough of a headache, what with Sakura's pessimism.

**. . . . .**

Hinata donned her black trench coat and crimson wool scarf. Pulling her hair around the back of her neck to rest entirely on her left shoulder, she swung open her apartment building's door and stepped outdoors. The rush of the morning chill struck with the tiniest burst of sunrise heat.

"Need a ride, miss?" The doorman, a friendly senior, gestured to the lot of cars. "I can send for one of the valets or chauffeurs."

Hinata smiled weakly at the display of special treatment, but she kindly refused. "I-I'm only going to be heading a few blocks down. Thank you for the offer."

He nodded briefly before turning away, but his eyes remained on her as she took small, quick strides across the lot. She was quite used to the staring of complete strangers by now – they all recognized her immediately, even without her atrocious exotic makeup and satin dresses and fancy hairpins.

Hinata rounded the corner and crossed another street, walking the length of the sidewalk before turning into a narrow alleyway. She hadn't been lying when she'd specified a few blocks – but she was fortunate enough to know of several shortcuts to spare her the energy. What with her dance training and sore limbs, she never found the will to _enjoy _walking or leisurely exercise anymore.

When her destination loomed into view, Hinata allowed the slightest of sad smiles to overcome her face. She really did miss coming here: her home of eighteen years. Once she'd been legally emancipated from her family, she'd instantly moved out, because she couldn't stand the way the others looked at her with pity and compassionate sympathy.

It was disgusting.

She didn't think she'd be able to live beneath her younger sister's hand, either. Hanabi could be a kind, respectful sibling, but at other times, she was manipulative and downright unsophisticated.

Hinata's eighteenth birthday had left Hiashi with a tough decision. But he'd chosen the option Hinata had been aware he'd been considering more heavily since the day she'd turned three – to have Hanabi replace Hinata as the official and sole heir of the Hyuuga fortune.

It didn't matter. She, Hyuuga Hinata, had made her own fortune in the end anyhow, and now she could return to the compound and see her father in his old age, living off of _her _hard-earned money, and silently and classily rub it into the face of her younger sister that _her _face was sported all around the town on bright billboards and lighted screens and posters, and not Hanabi's.

It pained her to see Hanabi engaged to Neji. It had emotionally harmed her friend Tenten, as well, even more brutally than herself. Tenten had _really _loved Neji. Hinata was well aware that neither Hanabi or Neji loved one another – the cousins' platonic and familial bonds were not too strong, either. She wasn't quite sure how Hiashi expected this arrangement to bode well in the least.

As she approached the compound, Hinata could make out the distinct silhouettes of several recognizable shapes in the courtyard. She lifted a hand in a still wave as she neared.

Neji and Hanabi, Hoheto and Ko were situated in a comfortable circle, discussing who-knew-what. Each face turned up to meet hers as she hovered over them with a small grin. Inviting herself silently to join them, she did so, dropping to her knees and tucking her hands neatly into her pockets, glancing around uneasily.

"H-Hi … again …?"

"Hinata-sama," Hoheto greeted kindly, extending a coarse hand for her to take. She shook it with a wider smile, her lavender-hued eyes thanking him mutely for the icebreaker. "It certainly is good to have you here with us again. What brings you to the compound so early in the morning?"

Neji, Hanabi and Ko seemed to lean forward for her answer.

"I-I have a quick rehearsal and a private matinee show before the public evening show, so I thought I'd visit w-while I had the time." She brushed hair back from her face and switched her gaze from cousin to sister to former bodyguard, pointedly ignoring Hoheto's slow nods of understanding.

"It sure is nice to have a _famous _sister," Hanabi said, but the bitter tone of her voice implied that she was admitting the opposite. It was almost expected that she'd add a sneer of a "Not!" afterward, but Hinata was glad when she refrained from doing so.

Neji shot her a glare from the corner of his eyes. "It sure is nice to have such a _classy _and respectful fiancée." He was satisfactorily met with an answering glower of Hanabi's.

"Behave yourselves," Hoheto warned languidly, rubbing his hands together in his lap in an attempt to generate self-heat. "Hiashi-sama would not want to see his daughter and nephew bickering, especially when they are about to be wed."

Hinata would never mention it aloud, but she despised the way Hoheto spoke. Sometimes it seemed as though he were a preacher or a lecturer, for his manner of speech was stiff and calculating, though not at all cold. Merely … hard-edged and unfeeling.

Neji and Hanabi fell silent.

"Are you still seeing that nice boy - Sakon?" Ko asked considerately, rummaging inside his warm winter vest for a box of cigarettes. Hinata's eyes widened slightly at the sudden question, but she nodded nonetheless, swift enough to catch the stiffening of Neji's back as she did.

"Y-Yes. He's good to me," she said to Ko, hoping her tone was a reassuring one. It wasn't exactly a _lie. _Disregarding his potty-mouth and less-than-reputable personality, Sakon carried out favours for her and paid for their dates and it wasn't like he'd ever raped her or treated her completely unforgivably. But he still never seemed to be … the boyfriend Hinata wished he would be.

Hanabi's eyes darted back and forth between Hinata's face to Neji's in jealous spurts; Neji's stare remained shamelessly on his elder cousin, angelically perched with her knees tucked below her as she engaged in a harmlessly friendly conversation with Ko.

As Hinata continued to ask and answer questions to and from her former bodyguard, she realized just how much she missed – and simultaneously didn't miss – her sheltered lifestyle as an heiress and top daughter. It had been pressuring, somehow even more so than being a locally renowned opera dancer.

She had felt almost tied down. If not completely tied, then blessed with broken wings. If not blessed with broken wings, then cursed with dead legs. She hadn't been able to dance until she'd enrolled in the Konoha Arts Academy, and even then, she hadn't been fully able to enjoy it. Not with the prospect of perhaps being made to surrender the hobby entirely for the impending inheritance that never did come.

She didn't resent Hanabi in the least for becoming heir. She secretly thanked her, for relieving her of the responsibilities and duties and pressured life that the Hyuuga inheritance entailed. When she danced onstage, she felt _free. _Free of it all, and it was all thanks to Hanabi.

Hinata was aware that Neji did not share her perspective. He often stared at her, with a look in his eyes she couldn't quite place. Sometimes his fingers grazed hers, or they would brush at her shoulder, or linger on her hair or merely touch her wrist in a silent word.

She didn't understand. She could see his eyes dart from Hanabi to her and from her to Hanabi. What was wrong with Neji?

And as Hinata sat on the Hyuuga compound courtyard, only absent-mindedly paying attention as Ko reminisced of her childhood, she failed to notice Hanabi's rigid focus on her. Perhaps her densely innocent older sister couldn't categorize the conflict Neji faced within himself, but Hanabi certainly could.

It was unattainable, forbidden, unrequited love.

**. . . . .**

Sasuke tightened his tie and adjusted his collar. He didn't bother checking his appearance in the mirror as he closed his bedroom door shut on the way out. He knew he looked good. He always could – it was something effortless by now, something that came with having the hair he did, the complexion he did, the lean figure compatible with clothes that fit and even clothes that didn't.

Alternately, Sakura spent at least half-an-hour in front of _her _mirror. She was far from perfect, but Sasuke would be readier to disagree if she just didn't try so hard _to _be. It was becoming rather tiring: being asked frequently whether or not he liked the way she looked, which hairstyle he preferred with which shade of lipstick, which set of jewellery matched her outfit best, and the list never ended.

"Are you ready, Sasuke-kun?"

_The question for the last half-hour has been: when are __**you **__going to be ready? _Sasuke nodded stiffly and tucked his leather wallet into his pocket. Sakura shouldered her heavily buckled and chained crème handbag and forced her arm around his as they made to leave.

Sasuke would have preferred the drive to the opera house to be a silent one, and so he played his part in his own wishes by remaining mute. But with Sakura's restless mind and constantly active lips, mutual silence was near impossible to achieve.

"I'm so excited to see everyone there tonight! No one ever misses any of Hinata-chan's shows! Not just because we're her friends, but because the Opera is a really talented group and even though they stage shows for each month, it's always stock-full, _every time_! I'm seriously so lucky to be in the loop; otherwise I don't think I'd ever be able to get my hands on such incredible seats!"

Sasuke ignored her. Yet she continued.

"I also can't wait to see everyone's reactions! I mean, I'm – naturally – the only one who knows you've returned, right? They'll all be so surprised to see you again! We should go find them before the show starts!"

Pink hair bristled slightly in the breeze as air whistled by their open ears. Sasuke felt somewhat nostalgic behind the wheel of his sixteenth birthday present – a black convertible. He hadn't been able to drive it since he left Konoha and left it behind on the run. Sakura glanced at the digital clock above the humming radio.

"See? We've still got plenty of time. And there's always a pre-show party that starts two hours early, so we'll be cutting in on the last forty-five minutes. That'll be enough time to get around and give everyone a bit of time to reunite with you. Aren't you glad to be back, Sasuke-kun? Are you just _thrilled_ for tonight?"

Her cheeks were flushed pink with excitement. Sasuke heaved a small, nearly indistinct sigh which was lost in the wind, thankfully. "Hn," he replied, uninterested.

She seemed to take the hint this time, a miraculous and pleasant change from what he recalled of the years prior to his leave. He resumed the remainder of the drive in a peaceful quiet disturbed only by the honking and whirring of other cars as they passed by.

As they pulled up to the opera house, its lights beaming brighter than any of the others on the street that night, Sasuke didn't bother to open Sakura's door. It was how he had always been and how he would always be – he was not here to be a gentleman, and he wasn't even sure he regarded Sakura as a definite girlfriend at all. He really had no obligation to open doors for her, and if she believed otherwise … well, she was delusional, then.

However, she didn't seem to mind. After all, she _had _gone for the past four years without a single man to open doors for her anyhow, and she being a self-righteous, independent woman with a fierce demeanour of her own, she never felt she needed chivalry to feel like a lady.

She stepped out of the convertible and closed the door gently, knowing how much Sasuke coveted his vehicles. Sakura reattached himself to his reluctant arm as they strode inside together.

A crimson velvet carpet adorned the inside of the opera house. It was indeed decked out to be something of a pre-show party, as Sakura had said, and it was absolutely thriving with early guests who crowded the spacious area in their tuxedos and fancy coats and cocktail dresses.

A shimmering array of alternating chandeliers surrounded the ceiling. Sakura's eyes widened with wonderstruck awe. She swirled her head around and around, taking everything in.

"It looks amazing!" she gushed, hands clasping each other at her mouth. "Doesn't it, Sasuke-kun?"

He never received the chance to respond – not that he had had any prerogative to anyhow – when a throng of familiar faces sprung into the picture. When Sasuke realized the identities of the overbearing presences, he recognized Naruto, Ino, Tenten, Neji and Hanabi, Rock Lee, Shikamaru and Choji, and Shino.

The next few minutes were filled with raucous greetings and shouts of his name. When the din quieted down some, Sasuke was able to regain his composure with the calmer atmosphere. Rackets and noise never helped to soothe him.

"Good to see you back, Sasuke," Naruto grinned, clapping Sasuke on the back, cerulean eyes glassed with something suspiciously resembling tears. No matter how mature Naruto may become, he would always be sentimental and ridiculously sensitive.

Ino squealed with happiness as she turned to Sakura and they began to discuss his arrival into town, of which none of their friends had been informed of. Tenten, Neji and Hanabi inclined their heads and smiled politely; Rock Lee shared a number of incomprehensible jokes which succeeded in lightening the stiff, formal mood surrounding the group.

Shikamaru and Choji each extended their hands for Sasuke to shake. Shino merely nodded and touched a hand to his shades as a friendly salute of sorts.

Sakura suddenly glanced up from her conversation with Ino. "Eh? Where's Kiba?"

"He's with Hinata," Shikamaru said lethargically, his hair twitching with obvious irritation at being forced into a tux. "He was waiting for her when the private matinee show ended. I also just saw him carrying her shoes for her while she bound her feet to get ready for this show."

**. . . . .**

Kiba stood in the corner of Hinata's dressing room, watching her wrap her small lily feet in bindings.

"Do you need more towels?" he asked, wincing as he watched the blood seep through her toes. "Seriously, Hinata, you need to lay off the dancing. I swear your feet will fall off one day if you keep it up."

Hinata laughed softly but said nothing as she clipped the bindings in place and reached for her shoes. "How much more time to go until curtain-up?"

Kiba glanced at the clock on the wall behind Hinata. "Uh, about five or six minutes … better get those shoes on. They'll be calling all performers to the stage any moment now."

"Will you help?" Hinata asked, slipping her feet into the neat little slipper.

Kiba laughed and scratched the back of his head. "Ah, nah, Hinata, you don't really want me too close to you. The other performers will ask why you _smell _so bad."

Hinata's shoulders heaved with a weary sigh and she shook her head with a sad smile. "Kiba, h-have you been smoking again?"

"Don't sweat it, Hinata," Kiba chuckled. "I don't even inhale. Besides, I only do it when I'm upset."

"I thought the only thing that got _you _upset was a badly-rolled joint," Hinata joked lightly, criss-crossing the slippers' ribbons up her leg.

Kiba's grin only widened. "Be serious, Hinata. Put on some perfume or something. I don't want to give you a bad name out there." He pointedly crossed to her vanity table and scooped one of the glass rose-tinted bottles and applied some to his finger. He then proceeded to smear it down the side of her bare neck. "There. That'll make me feel a bit better."

"Kiba, are your hands dirty?" Hinata huffed.

"No, I promise they're not," Kiba said sincerely, setting the bottle down carefully on the tabletop. "You look great, Hinata." Tucking a strand of hair back beneath her headband, he clicked his tongue with a smirk. "Go wow them all."

Before Hinata could offer her thanks, the door slammed open with unexpected force. Two heads whipped to face the doorway, only to see Sakon. Dry, cracked fingers gripped a dripping gin bottle, three-quarters empty already. His face was pale and flushed all in one, and the sight made the fear rise in Hinata's throat; even Kiba was unnerved.

Sakon's turquoise lips twisted into a sneer of sorts as he took another long gulp from the bottle, allowing saliva and surplus gin to trickle down the bottle and to the floor at the threshold of her dressing room. Leaning on the doorframe, Sakon glanced feverishly from Hinata to Kiba.

His eyes were bloodshot. "Get out there, _my _girl," he leered, cocking his head eerily at Hinata. "Come on, princess. Everyone's waiting for you. Didn't you hear the alarm? Going deaf, now? Am I going to have to take care of you, like I always do?"

He scoffed, and Hinata wondered just how much alcohol he had already ingested prior to his bottle of gin.

"Tch," Sakon muttered, his voice dropping to something flat and toneless and unbearably melancholy. "Come _on_! You're awfully dense for a girlfriend, aren't you? Get up already!"

Hinata hurried to obey, scrambling to her feet as Kiba slowly followed her to the door. As Hinata passed Sakon, she received a hefty blow to her shoulder with his fist in a manner that might have been encouraging had it not been so forceful and under the clear influence of alcohol.

"You'd better do good out there. Remember, you're my _woman. _Don't look as stupid as you did in the matinee, you hear me?"

Hinata nodded and ducked out from the door, leaving Kiba to glare at Sakon and partially hit the twisted, drunken man with his shoulder on the way out. No matter what was going on with her life, she just had to remember the words she'd always been living by: regardless of whether or not she was neck-deep in misery.

"The show must go on."

She made her way slowly down the narrow corridor, with Kiba loitering in the hallway and Sakon hovering by her dressing room door not too far behind. She ignored the pointed glares she received from the other performers, already frozen in their assigned positions for the opening theme. She weaved fluidly through their scattered array, straight across the entire stage to the very right. Hinata's first appearance of the night was in her own solo piece, so she stood on the sidelines until then, awaiting her cue.

Peeking through the red velvet, she could see the faces of her friends and her family and her fans, all of them seated patiently with their clasped hands in their laps, backs stiffly straight and their attention undiverted. Everyone - even the middle-class strangers she recognized by face - was garbed in formal dress; no matter how frequent the Opera shows might be, they were always a big deal, in high society and in low. The curtain began to shift slightly, and Hinata realized it was being lifted as applause littered the hush.

Tonight was her night to shine, and no one could stop her: not even Sakon, for once. It was time, after all, for things to change. And so began the show that would bring about the first of changes.

**. . . . .**

**A/N: **So the question was: _Should Naruto be with Ino or Tenten? _  
I know it's strange to have Kiba on drugs, but he reminds me of my best friend, Brandon. He's still a really cool and friendly guy who **does **have his priorities straight, but also smokes. Smoking doesn't make you a bad person necessarily - and I also wanted to introduce a darker, more true-to-life, relatable material in my first serious Naruto AU.

Did Sakon surprise anyone? I've only ever seen one Hinata/Sakon on FFnet, but I needed someone twisted enough to play the sick-needs boyfriend, and I didn't want to use any of the main characters - since I didn't want to go out of reasonable proportions. (For instance, I've read several fics where Hinata is suicidal or depressed because she suffers. I just wanted to show that even though she suffers, I don't think Kishimoto made her character out to be someone who just takes the self-pity route. Hinata's not a coward or an idiot.)  
So, none of the Rookie 9 would ever treat Hinata badly, so they were out of the question for Sakon's role. I also wanted to stay in her age group, so I chose Sakon. Throw you for a loop or what? :P

Again, apologies for the gradualness of this story. There will be a SasuHina interaction in the next chapter. Your quick reviews made me update faster than I usually do! So if you can, leave me a **review **telling me what you thought of this! :)


	3. Hope

**A/N: **The results point to NaruIno, so you'll be seeing a bit of that in this chapter. Not a lot though; I mean, what can you expect? It's a SasuHina, after all.

"**DANCE IN THE DARK"  
**_An AU SasuHina story  
_FRIGHTYMARE

**Disclaimer: **Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto  
**Song Inspiration: **Dear John – Taylor Swift**  
**Dance in the Dark – Lady Gaga  
Good to You – Marianas Trench ft. Kate Voegele

**. . . . .**

_Hope _

Sasuke ran a hand through his hair, cracking his neck with impatience. His tie was stiff and tighter than usual. "That's her, then?"

Sakura leaned over slightly, following his gaze with her own. Sharp emerald eyes pinpointed a dark-haired girl in a dress of maroon and brass. "Ugh, gosh no. I would never design something as hideous as that. I'll tell you when she's onstage."

"When who's onstage?" Naruto asked in a rough whisper, nudging Sakura with his elbow. His cerulean stare never left the mesmerizing dancers.

"Hinata-chan, of course," Ino interrupted on Naruto's other side, her fingers toying with the string of pearls at her neck. "Who else would we be here to see?"

"Oh, Hinata-chan," Naruto chuckled, clicking his tongue fondly. "You won't even have to point her out. You can't miss her."

"That's true," Sakura relented, returning her attention to Sasuke. "You'll know the moment she comes out. Everyone else will, too."

"Are you going to sign her, Sasuke-kun?" Ino inquired excitedly, craning her neck over Naruto's and Sakura's heads to see Sasuke's emotionless expression.

"Tch, I'll see."

Naruto and Ino exchanged smirks, both rather confident that Sasuke's attitude would change once he witnessed the spectacular dancer firsthand. Naruto glanced around the entire opera house, straining over his shoulder awkwardly until strangers began to give him odd looks. Feeling slightly uncomfortable with the unwanted attention, Ino nudged him sharply in his ribs.

"Naruto! What do you think you're doing?" she hissed reproachfully, scowling at a staring man from a row in front.

"Sorry, sorry," Naruto mumbled distractedly. "Looking for Kiba. Usually he comes out to catch his seat right after he's finished helping out in Hinata's dressing room."

Ino craned to look down the row of seats. "Yeah, his seat is empty," she acknowledged. "He probably just jumped out for a new hookah or something. He'll be back. Just enjoy the show, hon."

Naruto made a face at the pet name, much to Sakura and Ino's pleasure. Sasuke remained indifferent as the music began to drone in his ears and the – in his opinion – talentless dancers floated across the stage with the slightest of errors only perceived with the careful eyes that belonged to Uchihas.

Itachi, his father and his ancestors had all called this trait the 'Sharingan', hence the name of their talent agency. They liked to pretend that Uchihas were special, that their eyes were special, and could see the talent and small mistakes that no one else could.

The lights began to dim suddenly.

And then the entire theatre died to a hush. Ino and Naruto leaned to the edge of their seats in anticipation. Sasuke straightened, slightly more alert than before, wondering if something was perhaps wrong. While the shift in the show was not out-of-place, it was still somewhat unsettling.

He wondered if this was the norm for Konoha Opera shows.

"What's going on?" he muttered to Sakura, as near-total blackness engulfed the building. His voice was much louder in the absolute silence, and he could hear the slight displacement as several others turned to glare at him in the dark.

"Shh," Sakura commanded, and Sasuke could mentally see her pressing a finger angrily to her lips. He could tell her eyes were glued to the empty stage, just as everyone else's were.

And then it hit.

The violinists struck the fade of the atmosphere with a passion. The music began to thunder with a haunting sound. Sasuke's gaze subconsciously sharpened in alarm.

But this change was met with a roaring round of applause as a silhouette appeared on the stage. Sasuke knew instantly that this was her: the one his colleagues had recommended and he could see why.

She moved with grace and fluidity, but her movements were nevertheless firm and sure, each swing of her body passed through the air like a wet knife through butter, but there was no cinch in the motion, any click or crack or error.

Hyuuga Hinata moved with the music, and she moved fearlessly. She had no hesitation in her routine, and no predictability, either. She seemed to have little problem with throwing herself all over the stage, working her figure like she was a marionette, her parts connected by a string she knew would never snap.

But she was far too delicate to be a marionette. Perhaps a porcelain doll. An unbreakable, miraculous porcelain doll, immaculate in every way.

Immaculate indeed – especially for his industry.

Sasuke wondered fleetingly why she, the most dainty and light-footed of them all, had been paired with a routine set to hard and fast music, but he decided that the combination was quite original and impressive.

"She's great, isn't she?" Naruto asked in apparent awe.

"I designed that dress," Sakura said smugly. In the glow of the warm-coloured spotlight, Hinata's peach and crimson dress accentuated the soft lines of her body as it flowed gracefully around the stage. Vibrant satin flowers bobbed at her waist.

And soon, the solo which seemed to have lasted only seconds – but in reality reached a half-hour in length – had ended, and Hinata's ever-dancing form was joined by the others, flitting onto the stage like butterflies from either side of the curtains.

Sasuke ignored the rest of the show, having seen what he'd came for, and excused himself without a word. Sakura's green eyes followed him all the way out. Once he'd left the seating area, he retreated into a corner of the foyer hallway and pulled out his cell phone.

First, he phoned Juugo, to tell him he approved of Hyuuga Hinata. Overjoyed, Juugo promised to begin brainstorming international campaigns with the marketing board to expand her network, just like the company did with all of their new projects.

Sasuke, however, halted him. "I haven't signed her on yet. I'll talk to Suigetsu."

Juugo only muttered "oomph" in grudging reply and hung up the line. Next, Sasuke called Suigetsu.

"I want a background check on Hyuuga Hinata," he demanded.

Suigetsu's reply came immediately. "Oh? So you're interested? I can draw up a contract and fax it over tomorrow."

"I already have a contract on hand, but I'm not signing her until you give me the background check," Sasuke said firmly. "I want to know anything that might be incriminating or crippling in her past. I'm not going to sign on more than I can handle."

Suigetsu barked to a woman in the background, "Yuki! Get me the background check for Hyuuga Hinata!" Returning to a normal, low voice, he muttered to Sasuke, "Done. I'll keep you on the line for a few seconds while Yuki does her thing. Where are you? What changed your mind?"

"I'm at the Konoha Opera House," Sasuke explained.

"Ah," Suigetsu sighed wistfully in comprehension. "So you've seen her dance. Really something, isn't it?"

"Hn."

"Is that an agreement?"

Sasuke only sighed, but Suigetsu understand his strange way of verification. Sasuke continued, "She's still not as famous as Misaki or Hikari or Akira. The dance and opera industry doesn't go far, and for now, she's only local."

"Juugo said he'd work on expanding her network with Marketing. He's thinking worldwide, baby."

Sasuke lifted an eyebrow, slightly glad Suigetsu was blind to his surprise over the telephone as he asked with an indifferent tone, "So he's spoken to you about that already."

"Juugo?" Suigetsu said, the crumpling of paper and murmurs of Yuki audible from behind him. "Yeah. He really believes Hinata's got what it takes. And by the way, Yuki's done with the background check. Ready for this?"

"Mm," Sasuke grunted, bracing himself for whatever it was.

"Her attorney holds her information private. Nothing's leaked, no bad publicity, no incriminating gossip and definitely nothing crippling. The only thing about her that's known over the databases is her age, date of birth, birthplace, father's name and two relatives – Hanabi, a younger sister who's in line to inherit the Hyuuga fortune and Hyuuga Neji, a cousin or maybe a step-sibling – it's not mentioned – who came in third for an international lacrosse tournament hosted in Konoha three years ago."

"And that's it?" Sasuke asked in mild incredulity.

"Basically," Suigetsu said, his voice drawn out slowly as though he was busy scanning the sheet of paper before him. "But wait – there's one thing that's made public. Not really _public_, I'd say. Neither of them gave a statement about it, but it looks as though no one's even tried to get one from them."

"From who?" Sasuke snapped, impatient.

"From Hinata and Sakon. There's speculation they're most likely in a relationship at the moment. A few photos snapped of them together, some blog gossip, and some small references to one another in various interviews. Sakon's one of two twin sons of a Hyuuga investor and a nationwide entrepreneur."

"Nationwide? Not local?"

"No. The business seems to be an imprint of the Hyuugas. The families must be close, and their children even closer."

"Sakon …" The name sounded familiar. "Sakon and Ukon, isn't it?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You don't remember him?" Sasuke asked faintly. "Orochimaru. He mentored us, all of us. Sakon, Ukon, you, me, Juugo, Karin, and all the others. Pulled us out of high school and mentored us."

"Right," Suigetsu said, realization dawning. "It was that Fine Arts program!"

"That one," Sasuke confirmed.

"Sakon must have introduced Hinata to Orochimaru. I'll bet you anything that was how she got her start in the Konoha Opera, because she was the first dancer to be enlisted after Orochimaru, Tsunade and Jiraiya created it."

Suigetsu's impulsive reasoning was indeed impressive, but Sasuke would never say it aloud. "Hn," he agreed. "I'll keep an eye out for Sakon, then. Can you send a photo?" Sasuke never forgot a face, but he wondered whether or not the face might have changed. After all, it had been several years.

"Sure. Hang up the line and I'll send it over on your phone. Yuki says hi."

Sasuke felt nothing from the maternal woman's wishes. "Hn, whatever." He removed the phone from his ear and hung up, bristling with impatience as he waited.

Then the beep sounded, and he received a photo of an unpleasant memory: Sakon. His eyes travelled over the turquoise lips and sharp, piercing eyes, the curve of the thin smirk and the pale, gaunt lines of his skull's face. Over the course of a few years, Sakon had become more like Orochimaru than Sasuke would ever have guessed.

Sasuke trudged back into the opera's seating area, but the dancers were taking their bows and standing ovations in successions. He found his way back to Sakura and Naruto, only to discover that Naruto was still oblivious to his disappearance.

"-missed the whole show, that Kiba!"

"Sasuke-kun! There you are!" Sakura exclaimed elatedly, clutching his arm with fervent verve as he appeared amid the din of applause. "Did you see Kiba-kun at all?"

"No."

**. . . . .**

Sakura and the others were inside, consorting with other friends and locals that Sasuke had no intention of meeting. He stood outside the building, fiddling with a lighter and finding himself devoid of a cigarette on hand.

He was surprised to hear a voice he recognized.

"Forty tax, right?" It was Inuzuka Kiba's voice.

Sasuke edged along the building wall until he was as close to rounding the corner into an alley as he could be without being seen. Another fairly familiar voice emerged in response to Kiba.

"Forty-five." Sasuke could detect the detestable Ukon's voice from a mile away. And having recently studied a photo of Sakon – his twin, he could finally put a face to better his recognition of the voice. "Tax has gone up since last week. The feds have been on my tail since Aoi almost got busted."

"Aoi? You still sell to that Rain rat?"

"I sell whatever to whomever I want, so don't talk to me like that, mutt," Ukon snapped. "Now take your shit and go. The cops like to hang around the opera house on show nights."

"Hey. Before you leave." A rustle told Sasuke that Kiba's arm had probably shot out to stop Ukon before he could take a step. "Tell your bastard brother not to treat Hinata like crap anymore. It's not cool."

"I don't talk to my brother anymore, twerp," Ukon sneered. "Sakon does what he want, now that he's rich and shit. My brother never gave a damn about me, so save the lecture for him."

Kiba spat gruffly and seemed to shove Ukon away from him. "Fine. Now take your money and go. I'll see you next month on show night."

"Sure, sure," Ukon mumbled angrily. Sasuke ducked quickly behind a large metal bin as Ukon came from around the corner grumbling and kicking at pebbles on the sidewalk, his retreating figure shrinking into the distance as he dragged himself down the opposite street and out of view.

Kiba didn't follow out of the alley, and this spiked Sasuke's interest. He snuck out from behind the bin and slinked along around the corner, only to find Kiba's coattails disappearing into the Authorized Personnel Only door leading into the opera house.

Curious, Sasuke tailed Kiba inside and found himself in the hall of the dancers' dressing-rooms. Each room was locked and Sasuke could hear the low buzz of excited dancers discussing their mistakes and highlights, squealing about the night's performance to one another as they wiped off their vibrant makeup and donned their mismatched clothes again.

Kiba, however, knocked on a door, rapping his knuckles thrice on the brightly coloured wood. However, Kiba didn't step inside when the door opened. He lingered in the doorframe.

"Hey, Hinata."

"You didn't watch." Her gentle voice came as a pout of sorts.

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Ukon came late tonight. I'll wait for you outside by my car, alright? Or is Sakon coming to give you a ride?"

Sasuke did not miss the sound of displeasure in Kiba's voice.

"I don't think so," Hinata murmured fretfully. "He's been drinking a lot. I don't like the idea of going home with him tonight. If you see him before I do, please tell him to call a cab. I don't want him driving himself, either."

Kiba scoffed and seemed to roll his eyes. "Yeah, sure," he said.

"Leave," Hinata whined, unpleased with his tone. "I'm going to change."

"Fine, fine. I'll be outside, then. See you in a few."

Kiba, fortunately for Sasuke, did not come back the way he came, and instead continued to the end of the hall and turned the corner into a corridor that would most likely lead him out to the parking lot. Sasuke was about to step into the open and confront Hinata's open door himself, to present her a contract, but was again thwarted.

By the presence of Sakon.

The drunken man stumbled down the hall and Sasuke followed at a distance, slightly wary. He was thankful for the fact that Sakon threw the door backwards as he entered the dressing-room, providing a space for Sasuke to remain hidden behind. He even had that small nook between the hinges and the wood for him to see what was going on.

Sakon looked a lot healthier than the gaunt, pale-faced man he'd seen in Suigetsu's photo. He was lively and flustered, probably from the alcohol, and was definitely not as unhealthily skinny as before. Sasuke assumed the photograph had been of Sakon in past harder times.

Hinata looked up from where she sat at her vanity table, a large white powder puff in her palm and a makeup brush in the other. "S-S-Sakon?"

Sasuke heard the stuttering falter. Sakon didn't seem to care.

"Hey, buh-babe. Hurry up and get - get ready. I gotta get home."

"K-K-Kiba w-was going to drive me h-home tonight," Hinata stammered nervously, setting down the powder puff and averting her eyes to gaze anywhere but at Sakon or her own reflection.

"That's right," Sakon leered. "Kiba _wasssss _going to give you a ride."

Hinata's neck tensed; her back stiffened visibly, but drunken Sakon took no notice as he lurched further inside the room.

"Kiba's a worthlessssss ssson of a bitch. You know he sssssmokes, right? _I _don't ssssmoke."

Sasuke could see Hinata's reflection at an angle in the mirror, her lips curving into a frown as Sakon's curved into an upturned sneer. "I-I know," Hinata said quietly.

"And you'd rather be with a guy who doesn't ssssmoke, isn't that right?" Sakon slurred.

Hinata's hand dropped from the makeup table to hang limply at her side. He saw her pale fingers clench into fists; he could see Hinata flinch under Sakon's breath. "Kiba doesn't drink so much gin," she said bravely, a strange glimmer in her eyes.

"Don't talk to me like that, you bitch," Sakon hissed angrily, roughly reaching out and placing a hold partially on her neck. With a simple shift of his fingers and a tightening of the grip, he could easily snap her neck in seconds.

Sasuke felt oddly on-edge about this.

"Let go of me," Hinata murmured, squirming under his hand. Sasuke could imagine how hot and flushed his skin would be on her cold, porcelain neck.

"Not until you apologize, you good-for-nothing broad," Sakon commanded, his fingernails digging into her skin. "Come on, tell me how ssssorry you are for mouthing off your boyfriend."

"I'm sorry!" Hinata said in a hushed scream. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Sakon wrenched his fingers off of her neck, leaving scraped-skin scars in his wake as he did so. He wiped his hand on his shirt as though touching her truly disgusted him. Sasuke scowled from his hiding place.

"Damn right you're ssssorry," Sakon snapped. "Now grab your clothes and come to the car. You can change at home. I don't have the time to wait for you anymore."

Hinata blanched. "K-Kiba's taking me home!" she repeated adamantly.

"I said he's not!" Sakon screeched, lunging for her arm this time.

However, he was met with Sasuke's grip around his wrist. "Don't touch her."

From behind him, a sigh left Hinata's lips, though not in relief, to his surprise. It was a tired sigh, almost weary and defeated.

Sakon leered at him. "Leave my girl and I alone, you bastard. Get out of here, you're not supposed to be here!"

"Neither are you," Sasuke said calmly, onyx eyes blazing with dislike. "Hinata, get outside. Kiba's waiting for you."

Hinata hesitated, but took her clothes from the table and left the room.

"I don't know if that was just a fight or a regular occurrence," Sasuke began, knowing full well that it was a regular occurrence, "but don't let it happen again. Stay away from my client."

Sakon was too drunk to have taken an interest in whatever he had just said. The vocabulary stumped him; when he was intoxicated, he could not listen to anything but simple sentence structures and elementary words.

"Whatever, dude," Sakon grumbled, shoving Sasuke's hand roughly off of his own. "I'm out of here." He aimed an uncoordinated fist in Sasuke's direction, but only managed to knock the latter's shoulder with a shaky punch.

Sakon vanished down the hall.

Sasuke began to go down to the end of the corridor, where he'd seen Kiba leave for the parking lot earlier, hoping to find his way back to Sakura and Naruto. Instead, he found Hinata in her peacoat, her satin net skirt peeking out from beneath the hem.

She stopped him as he was about to walk by without noticing her.

"Wait, S-Sasuke-san?"

She sounded uncertain, so he nodded.

"I thought you looked familiar." Hinata attempted a smile, but all she could manage was a weak grimace. Sasuke thought he sensed a trace of fear or apprehension within it. "Could you please not tell anyone w-what – what you just saw?"

"I thought I told you to go outside. Kiba's waiting for you," Sasuke said simply, avoiding the question. He truthfully wanted to ask Juugo or Suigetsu about what he'd just seen.

"Yes, but-" Hinata paused. "I wanted to hear what you wanted with S-Sakon. What did you mean, your c-client?"

"Oh, that." Sasuke reached into his suit pocket and pulled out his contract. "I wanted to sign you to _Sharingan_. It's my talent agency. If you're interested, get back to me. You have seventy-two hours."

Hinata's eyes went wide. She clutched the contract without even looking at it. "I-I've heard of _Sharingan_! I'd actually love to, I don't need time to think about it!"

"Alright then. Here's my company's card; send me a fax with your information, your schedule and only contact the bottom number if there's an emergency. Ask for Juugo with the first number and Suigetsu with the second. The agency address is on the back and we'll call you if there's a change."

"A-Alright," Hinata said, wide-eyed. "T-Thank you, Sasuke-san." She paused as she pocketed the card, but her head snapped up suddenly. "And wait, could you p-please-"

"I won't tell anyone," Sasuke said abruptly, sounding slightly tired as he straightened his jacket. "Hinata, is that something that happens a-"

"Thank you for your word," Hinata said. She stalked off, turning on her heel and pushing through the Emergency Exit door through to the parking lot. A dark silhouette in the night leaned against a car parked at the sidewalk, smoke billowing from his unseen face – Kiba.

"Hn."

However, she paused at the doorway. But I was really going to ask, please don't feel the need to do that again. I can protect myself."

As the door slammed shut behind Hinata, Sasuke turned, hiding a smile from no one in particular. "No, you can't, he mumbled to himself with faint amusement. "But that's what I'm here for anyway."

**. . . . .**

**A/N: **Thanks for reading and keeping up! I've got my fingers crossed for reviews, but do as you like If you feel I deserve a review, then please do leave me your thoughts. And to **Hinata6**, you got me very addicted to Kaichou wa Maid-Sama! It's so cute! (You should read the Special A manga!)


	4. Quick Author's Note: Not a chapter!

Not an update. Really sorry, but I keep getting these reviews asking why smoking seems to be such a big deal, etc.

I'm not sure what the ratio of book-smart to street-smart people read fan-fiction, but if you aren't street-smart, then there are a few hints that I left in the last chapter if you failed to catch them.

The first hint is that Ino said Kiba was probably out to look for a new 'hookah'. Know what that is? It's a pipe for tobacco or marijuana.

Yeah, marijuana is what Kiba smokes. That's why it's a 'big deal' to some people in this fic. Also, another of the hints was that Kiba was drug-dealing with Ukon. I tried to make that as clear as I could. Back alley, late at night, etc. (I mean, no one has to secretly deal cigarettes.) I was kind of expecting people to be able to get that from the Kiba-Ukon interaction.

So, hope that cleared some things up with people.

I'll update ch.4 at my disposal, but I'll try to make it soon. Thanks for reading!


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